


Are you Down?

by SpaceWaffleHouseTM



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Jokes, Bisexual Ben Solo, Bisexual Rey (Star Wars), Bisexuality, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, No Pregnancy, Oral Sex, Rey Tells Jokes when she's Nervous, Sexual Humor, not really any mentions of past partners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:48:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23098111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceWaffleHouseTM/pseuds/SpaceWaffleHouseTM
Summary: Rey laughs and makes terrible jokes when she's nervous. Ben discovers this the first time he goes down on her.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 45
Kudos: 325
Collections: Queerly Beloved Reylo Fics, Reylo Prompt Fills (@reylo_prompts)





	1. Part One

His girlfriend lands on the shitty, uncomfortable mattress of his dorm bed with a groan. Sure, he’d set her down on it as best he could, but when those things are four fucking feet in the air, sticking the landing isn’t always easy, especially not when he’s nervous. 

And right now, as he crawls on top of her, resting his body between long, tan legs that immediately wrap around his hips, he is more nervous than ever. He can’t quite gauge what she’s feeling, she’s looking up at him through hooded eyes and he’s distracted by the messy way in which her hair spills out around her head like a halo. Rey’s beautiful like that, her lips slightly parted in a hint of a smile, a blush coloring her cheeks, her eyes searching his for a sign of how to proceed from there as her hands come up to caress his cheeks. 

Laughter shakes them both as he leans in for a kiss, pulled by her sweet, eager hands as she then wraps her arms around his neck, and he thinks he’s found heaven all over again. He feels that way every time he kisses her, and maybe it’s because they’re still in the honeymoon phase and they can’t get enough of each other, but he likes to think it’s because there’s something deep brewing between them. Maybe they're just fools, maybe they’re nineteen and jumping into their first relationship and all these feelings are simply new and exciting, but it doesn’t feel like that. 

No, it feels deeper, different from anyone he’s ever kissed. Even if he can’t necessarily explain why. 

All he knows is that ever since they went from friends to more than friends, life has gotten much sweeter. Every day feels like a gift, and it has since they met at a floor meeting right before the first day of freshman year. They’d been playing dumb games to try and memorize everyone’s names—and subsequently, he hadn’t spoken to anyone save for her and the girl named Rose whom she’d been roommates with since—and when he’d learned hers he’d said it sounded like the sun and she’d laughed. They’ve been friends ever since. 

It became deeper than that—on his end at least—very quickly. He soon found himself looking at her with lingering glances and maybe they cuddled more often than people who were just friends should have. During that game of spin the bottle they’d played with her friends Finn and Poe just before summer break? He’d kissed her longer and harder than any friend ever should’ve and he decided to blame the alcohol. Little did he know that when she did the same she was just disappointed he hadn’t admitted his feelings, and she’d been kissing him the same way in an attempt to tell him how much she loved him without words. 

They’d called and texted over the summer, but when he lived down by the coast and she lived up in the mountains, it was a lot more difficult to see one another. They managed one little hiking trip, during which a heated conversation about sex ensued after encountering one of those weird oak trees with a nutsack attached to it, but other than that? Nothing. 

She’d surprised him the first day they were back in the dorms a month ago by tackling him to the ground in the courtyard in front of god and everyone— _ including his parents.  _ Rey was just so happy to see him, so overcome with joy, that according to her, she barely even thought before she took off running. Getting up from the ground after that had been a dizzying experience, and introducing her to his parents had nearly made him faint. 

“Is this your girlfriend, Ben?” his father had asked, an innocent question, but when two people had as much lingering, unresolved tension as they had, it was loaded. 

The metaphorical gun went off that night when they were cuddling again in his dorm after all their friends had left the obligatory reunion hangout. He’d brought up his dad’s question, asking her if that’s what she thought they were, and when she said yes? 

They shared their very first non-drunken kiss, and it had been sloppy and lazy and awkward, but altogether astonishingly beautiful. 

Now kissing her feels effortless, like he’s floating. He feels as if he’s falling down a rabbit hole and into wonderland, except wonderland isn’t full of things out of nightmares. 

This kiss is different for other reasons, though. Tonight, they’ve decided they wanted to go a little further. Maybe they’re not quite going all the way yet, but they’ve both realized they’re ready to start shedding layers. As much as they both like it, they don’t want to keep dry humping forever and Ben is tired of coming in his pants. 

Smiling against her lips, he breaks away from the kiss, then he rocks back on his knees, and strips off his shirt, watching her eyes hungrily sweep over him before he crawls on top of her. An appreciative hum leaves her as her hands skim over the expanse of his newly exposed skin. She likes what she sees at the very least. She always has, ever since they played strip cards against humanity just before spring break last year. 

Back then, he’d thought she’d just been drunk, now he knows it was more than that. 

His hands are still shaky as he reaches down between them, fingers skimming over the muscles of her abdomen as he leans in to kiss her again. She’s nervous, he thinks, her lips take a second to respond to his and she’s a little shaky in his arms, but that’s oddly comforting. He’s never done this to someone before either. Well, at least, he hasn’t done it to someone without a penis. 

All he can hope for is that he’s good at this. Her last partner had been a disappointment when it came to oral, and he’s determined to be better than they’d been, to prove to her that it’s one of the finer things in life. And, well, he really wants to know what she tastes like; if she’ll moan for him the way he’s heard women often do with this kind of thing. 

He undoes the button of her jeans, and Rey is definitely trembling beneath him a little, but it’s not so bad that he thinks she hates him. Deft fingers move to her zipper, and he laughs against her lips as he feels her kick off her converse behind him. 

“Is this okay?” he asks, moving down to press a kiss to her jawline. “Can I take these off?” 

Nervous laughter falls from her lips, but she nods. “Yeah, please.” Then he begins hooking his fingers beneath the waistband of her jeans, and his breathing shudders as he begins to bring them down. She lifts her hips as he pulls them over the swell of her ass, her underwear being tugged down with them as he works to strip her lower half of all its clothing. 

_ God,  _ he’s so fucking nervous. As more of her becomes exposed, he can smell her arousal in the air, but there’s an underlying anxiety that he sees in her eyes which makes him worry a little, but he presses on. It’s exhilarating, peeling those jeans down her legs, slowly exposing her thighs—which he fully intends on kissing later—as he goes. Rey’s breathing is starting to come fast, but she manages to kick off the denim so that it falls to the floor with her sneakers, and as he settles back between her legs in the aftermath, she covers the lower half of her face with her hands, he can tell she’s smiling. “It’s okay,” he whispers, then he lowers her hands, taking her wrists in his as he kisses her again, their lips finding a rhythm that he settles into with ease. 

Soft hums escape her as she kisses him, and she settles her hands on his cheeks while his rest on either side of her head, attempting to keep his weight off of her as best he can. Even if she likes it when he smothers her like a blanket a little, he knows she’s struggling to breathe enough as it is, and he wants her to feel as comfortable as possible. A part of him wants to just lay here kissing her forever, and he thinks about the afternoon after they’d first gotten together, when they’d gotten back from class and just laid on her futon for hours beneath her lofted bed, kissing like they had all the time in the world. 

Her roommate definitely didn’t like him too much after that, but he could tell Rose didn’t take it too seriously. She has, however, made fun of him nonstop ever since by making kissy faces whenever he walks into a room. 

They can’t kiss forever, though, she’s got class in about two hours, she’ll have to leave, and he really wants to make her come before that happens. “Mmm,” he breathes, then he begins to press kisses along the line of her jaw again, slowly descending as his hands drift down by her waist. “Are you sure you want this?”

“Yes,” she breathes, her breath hitching, and he feels all of his blood go directly to his cock. “I want you.”

_ Fuck,  _ he’s going to die. This is going to be the death of him, and he isn’t even mad about it. “Good,” he whispers, then he continues pressing kisses down the column of her throat, stopping to suck a mark over her pulse point as he—

She gives him a laugh that’s full of anxiety, then he pauses against her skin. “Ben?”

“Yeah?” he asks, pressing a tentative kiss to the juncture of her neck and shoulder. 

“What do you give a sick lemon?”

Blinking, he pulls away from her neck, and looks down at her in concern.  _ What the fuck did she just say? _ “I’m sorry?”

“What do you give a sick lemon?” she repeats, and she’s got this smile on her face, highlighting an expression that can only be described as a child trying to lie to its parents about the fact that it wasn’t the dog that farted. “Lemon-aid!” 

As his girlfriend erupts into more giggles, the corners of Ben’s mouth begin to tug up into a nervous sort of smile, and he nods as he leans down and presses a kiss to her collarbone. “You’re adorable,” he tells her, certain he hasn’t quite caught onto what’s really going on with her yet. 

Her breathing quickens again as he presses a kiss near the lower point of her v-neck, just where the fabric meets the skin, and she gasps as he then presses a kiss to her clothed upper abdominal muscles, then another shocking thing tumbles from her lips, “What do you call a hippie’s wife?” 

It’s breathlessly spoken, almost said like a gasp, but he still has trouble processing it as he looks up from her stomach, his lips parted in shock.  _ What the hell is going on? _

“A Mississippi,” she finishes, and he thinks he’s hallucinating now as he pulls away, and takes one of her hands in his. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Why did the can crusher quit his job? Because it was soda-pressing!” 

“Rey,” he whispers, then he crawls back over her so that they’re face to face once again. “Is something going on?”

Groaning, she covers her face with her hands, then she shakes her head. “You’ve never seen me be nervous, have you?”

He lifts one corner of his mouth in a dopey half-smile, then he thinks for a few seconds. “I can’t say I have. You’ve always been so confident, I’ve always been the one who’s scared,” he admits, then she laughs as she brushes a piece of his hair from his eyes, seeming to want to see him as she speaks.    


“Ben, I’ve got this habit, and it’s really embarrassing, but uh…” Another tiny laugh. “I uh… I make jokes when I’m nervous?” 

“Really?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow as he places a hand on her cheek, searching her eyes for a moment before he realizes she’s serious. “That’s it?”

“It’s not that bad, I know, but the jokes are really bad, always, like dad jokes,” she looks away from him, staring down at his open mouth as her cheeks flush. “God, this is so awkward…” 

“No, it isn’t, I just want to make sure it doesn’t mean you don’t want this, ‘cause I’ll stop right now if that’s what you’re trying to tell me.” 

He’s already preparing to move away, already anticipating crawling off of her and just holding her close while they watch a movie or something, but she holds him tight, arms wrapping around his shoulders as she clings on like a monkey. “No! No, I want you here,” she promises, then she takes in a deep breath. “I just… you should know I’m going to make bad jokes the whole time until I stop being nervous.”

“Oh, okay,” he replies, then he cocks his head to the side as he thinks for a minute before nodding. “I can roll with that.”

“Good, ‘cause I have something to ask you.”

“What?” he asks, then he begins pressing little kisses to her neck again, taking his time as he tries to encourage her to become more confident. As cute as he finds the bad jokes, he’s also eager to hear her moan his name like she had last night when they’d been grinding against one another at two am and nearly been caught by his poor roommate. 

There’s a pause, then she looks into his eyes again. “What do a piece of toilet paper and the U.S.S Enterprise have in common?”

“I… I don’t know,” he replies, kissing her stomach again as he moves further down, the muscles tense beneath his lips as he places a hand there to steady her before moving on. “What do they have in common, Rey?”

This one has her snickering before she can deliver the punchline, and he’s just starting to sit back on his knees, just starting to lift one of her thighs to rest on his shoulders—which he actually succeeds in doing—when she finally does it. “They both circle Uranus looking for Klingons,” she says, and he nearly buries his face in her cunt to stifle his laughter as he absolutely fucking loses it. 

The joke is stupid. It’s bad, it’s really bad, and he knows shit all about  _ Star Trek,  _ but through cultural osmosis he knows just enough that it’s fucking funny. Well, that and any joke involving Uranus always kills unless one has the comedic chops of a slice of white bread. “Jesus Christ, Rey,” he breathes, burying his face in her thigh instead, laughter stifled against her smooth skin. 

Giggles burst free from the woman beneath him as her thighs tense around his shoulders. “That fucking tickles, Ben,” she warns him, then he feels her hand reaching out to smooth down his hair. “Can you just go down on me, already?”

“I’m trying to, but you keep cracking jokes, and it’s hard to focus,” he replies, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh, then he pauses. “That doesn’t mean you should stop, I find it oddly endearing.”

“Thank you?”

“You’re welcome,” he says against her skin, his lips brushing against the pale expanse of her inner thigh with every word as he then proceeds to kiss a smooth line along the muscle he finds there. She feels divine beneath him, and her raspy, impatient breaths are driving him insane as he reaches that patch of skin just between her leg and her entrance, then just as he’s preparing to kiss her cunt for the first time, she does it again—

“Why do seagulls fly over the sea?” she asks breathlessly, then he moves on to her other thigh, kissing her closer to her knee before he makes his way down. “Because if they flew over the bay, they’d be bagels.”

He snorts his laughter, warm breath washing out over her skin, but he doesn’t care, all he can do is smile as he kisses her because this is how it should feel, he thinks. She should be making him laugh, they should be having a good time, and since she’s also laughing at her own jokes, he can’t help but smile as he gives her one last glance before he presses an open-mouthed kiss to her cunt, and she sighs beneath him. 

Admittedly, the taste takes him a second to get used to. As his tongue slips inside of her, he’s surprised to find it doesn’t taste as sweet as it always seems to in the movies and—yeah, sue him—the porn he’s watched. Still, it’s Rey he’s tasting, and soon he finds himself used to it, his tongue pressing in and out of her as he lets his nose rub against her clit, causing her to gasp beneath him, her hands rushing to grip his hair as she lets out a breathless, “ _ Oh my god. _ ” And that does wonders for his confidence. 

“What,”  _ gasp,  _ “happens,”  _ sigh,  _ “when a frog’s car,”  _ a moan _ , “breaks down?”

He hums as his lips come up to her clit, sucking it between his lips in time with the sound, and he’s lucky he’d thought to put his hand on her earlier, because her hips nearly buck into his mouth when he does that, her whole body shivering in the aftermath as she breathlessly delivers the punchline. “ _ It gets toad.” _

With his free hand, he slowly slips it down between her legs as he flicks at her clit with his tongue, needing her to stop making jokes so he can hear her say his name.  _ God,  _ he wants to hear her say his name. Slowly, he presses a finger into her entrance, but even as her fingers tighten their grip on his hair—and fuck, he’s going to go bald before he turns twenty—she starts making another joke. “What’s the last thing that goes through a bug’s mind when it hits a windshield?” she gasps, the words leaving her so fast he barely understands what she’s saying. 

“I don’t know, Rey,” he says, his voice dropping another octave—he’s pretty sure it’s not intentional—as he adds a second finger, and her back arches, her head falling back against his pillow as she fights back a scream. “What?”

“ _ It’s butt! _ ” she cries, then he’s sucking her clit into his mouth again, and finally, finally, he hears her say what he’s been hoping she’d say the whole time. “ _ Fuck, Ben!” _ And slowly, she begins to lose control, her breathing coming fast as he then curls the two fingers he has inside of her, pumping them in and out gently as he drives her close to the edge. 

“Are you done making jokes?” he asks, curling his fingers again as he grins impishly at her. “It’s inappropriate to make dad jokes you know, if you’re not a dad. It’s called a faux pa.”

“ _ Ben!” _ she cries, pulling him back down to her as he then removes his fingers, and grips both of her thighs in his hands, his fingers digging into her skin as he licks a stripe from her entrance to her clit, his tongue swirling around it as she fights back the urge to grind her hips against his mouth. “Ben, fuck…”

“We don’t have a condom,” he jokes, then she makes a sound that’s a combination of a laugh and a moan as he sucks her cunt into his mouth again, licking at her clit a few more times before she gasps again, warning him that she’s close. 

“Yes,” he replies, pressing another open-mouthed kiss to her cunt. “You are.” Then he presses his tongue flat against her again, licking up to her clit before he presses it back inside of her, and he feels her flutter around him as the wave that’s been building crests, and she falls apart beneath him, moaning loudly enough that he’s certain everyone in the building can hear. 

Her clit finds itself between his lips again, and he sucks, not letting up until she slowly pushes him away a minute later, the stimulation getting to be a little too much before he finally pulls back, and sees the look in her eyes. Rey is staring at him like she’s in some kind of a haze, like she’s just been given the best tasting food of her life, or the best wine, and she’s a little drunk off of it. “Fuck,” she whispers, then he’s crawling back over her, grinning as he presses a kiss to her lips. 

Hands quickly caress his cheeks, deepening the kiss as her legs wrapping around his hips as she tastes herself on his tongue for the first time. It’s a dizzying thought to think of Rey knowing what she tastes like, and he wonders if she’s ever done it—if there’s ever been a time she’d gotten herself off and then run her mouth over her fingers after. It makes him hard to think about, and he knows he’s going to have to take care of this sooner or later, but for now, he’s still focused on making her feel good, on making her feel as if she’s worth everything in the world, because as far as he’s concerned? She is. 

“That was amazing,” she whispers as she pulls back, then she leans in to press a kiss to his nose, and he wonders if she can taste herself there, too. “You’re… you’re wonderful, Ben.”

“Good,” he replies, kissing her softly. “Do you feel less nervous now?”

“Yeah.” She gives him a nod. “I do, that was… that wasn’t even scary. It—uh—it helped that you were really, really good at it, too.”

Both of his eyebrows shift upward at this. “Really?” he asks, voice rising in pitch as he then tries to tamper down his excitement as he lowers his voice back to the octave it had been while he’d eaten her out. “I mean, really?” 

“Yes,” she replies. “I told you, you were wonderful. That… I need you to do that again every day. I want to feel like this every single day of my life.”

_ Every single day of her life?  _ Don’t people live a really long time? Her entire life? Ben’s mind starts going crazy, picturing a lifetime where he spends his days between her legs, both of them constantly blissed out on the pleasure the act brings them, but then he realizes she’s probably joking. It can’t be healthy to go down on someone every day, can it? And at that point it just becomes an obsession. No, it was definitely a joke, just like the ones they’ve been making the whole time. It’s not that deep. 

“Good to know those hours I spent practicing on an orange were effective,” he mutters, causing his girlfriend to giggle as he rolls off of her, then scoops her up in his arms, tossing the throw blanket he’s laid over his sheets onto her bare legs as she rests on top of him, her warmth flooding them both. 

“Did you really practice on an orange?”

“Orange you glad I did?”

More laughter falls from her lips, then she turns her head, and places a kiss on his chest through his t-shirt, one that makes him remember the erection currently tenting his pants, and he sighs, thinking of anything to try and turn him off right now because he wants her to have time to recover before he even considers asking her to reciprocate. “I’m quite glad,” she confirms, interrupting his thoughts, then she glances up, and then leans forward to kiss his collarbone, the touch so intimate and soft that he sighs. “Can we just sleep now? I think I came so hard I got tired.”

“I’d love that,” he replies, then he kisses the top of her head, and reaches over the bed to where his desktop lamp is standing and turns it off. “Did you set an alarm for your next class?”

“I did.”

“Yeah, I did,” she says, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Goodnight, Ben.”

“It’s only one-thirty.”

Her smile fills his vision. “... Good day, Ben,” she corrects, then she laughs to herself. “Dickhead.”

He’s grinning as his arms flex around her, then his eyes close and he relaxes, drifting slowly off into sleep as best he can with all of Rey’s jokes drifting about in his head. 


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second part's a bit shorter but considering I thought this would be a 1600 word one shot when I went into it, it's more than I expected.

A few days go by where he makes good on that promise of going down on her every day. Well, maybe every other day. It’s probably bad hygiene to go down on someone every day, isn’t it? He isn’t sure, but he knows he likes it enough to do it as often as possible. She’s still making jokes, but she stops more quickly now, giving way to those breathy, heavy moans he loves hearing from her. 

At the end of the first week, though, things take an interesting turn. Or at least, he thinks it’s interesting because it’s a break from their everyday routine. They’re lounging on her futon as usual, Rose has just left to go to class, and they’re just ignoring  _ Back to the Future  _ on Netflix as his hand strokes lazily up and down her back, until suddenly, she tilts her head up and away from his laptop screen, and—

“Can I go down on you?” she asks, and he nearly flips the laptop off of his thighs. 

“What?”

“Can I go down on you?”

“What?”

“Can I suck your dick?” 

And finally, he seems to get it. Stuttering over his words, he shuts his laptop, and sets it down on the floor beside the futon before he wraps that arm around her waist again, hand resting on her shoulder as he looks into her eyes, trying to gauge whether or not she’s serious. “You want to…?” 

Then she nods, and shock fills him. It’s not as if he hasn’t thought about this several times since he first went down on  _ her,  _ but it’s still incredible to hear nonetheless. “Yeah, I do, I can always taste myself on your lips, and… I don’t know, I’m curious.”

His heart is racing in his chest, but he nods, then she’s pressing him back into the futon, and he melts against her mouth as she kisses him, lips caressing his as they begin moving together, and his hand slips up from her shoulder to cup the base of her skull, both of them moaning softly. It’s remarkable, really, just a month ago, he’d still been too shy to tell her he liked her, and now he’s pretty sure he’s falling in love for the first time. 

_ Whoa, _ he needs to slow down his train of thought. If he allows it to barrel too fast out of control, he might end up accidentally spilling his guts while he climaxes, or worse, just while she does something that feels good, and he’s going to ruin this beautiful relationship he’s building before it even has the chance to properly take off. He can’t rush this, he’ll tell her soon, but he needs the moment to be right. 

He can’t just say, “I love you,” because she told him she wants to suck his cock.

Said cock is currently growing harder by the minute in his pants, tenting his jeans as Rey’s legs settle on either side of his hips. Her kisses grow deeper, tongue sweeping into his mouth as she begins grinding herself against his erection. He gasps into the kiss as the feeling of that friction washes over him, his breath catching as he fights back the urge to come in his pants then and there. 

_ God,  _ he wasn’t meant to last, he’s going to pass out, he’s going to die. He barely survives each time he goes down on her, but to have her mouth on him? Ben Solo has never been more aware of his own mortality than he is at this moment. “Rey,” he breathes, then she moves her hips again, and he moans loudly. “Rey, I’m not going to last if you keep— _ fuuuck _ —if you keep doing that.”

Snorting her amusement, she stops what she’s doing, and places a kiss to his jaw. “Sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be sorry, I just… I just…” She kisses him again, this time opening her mouth to leave what he’s sure will be a giant fucking hickey over the convergence of his neck and shoulder, and he whispers her name breathlessly as his head falls back against the futon. 

Her lips leave a trail of marks as she moves across the collar of his shirt to the other side of his neck, then she leaves a mark there, just beneath where his pulse is racing, and he thinks he might finally find out what it’s like to come untouched. “Rey…”

“Are you nervous?” she asks, and he doesn’t think he is—or rather, he didn’t until this very moment—but god, when she looks at him like that, he suddenly understands why she’d felt the need to make jokes a few days earlier. 

Humor is a great tool. It lifts the spirits, keeps people happy so that they live longer, and they have joy. It brightens the darkest days, and brings two people the confidence to go down on their significant others. A glorious thing, really, a tool which he now plans on using to confirm to her that yes, he is indeed fucking nervous—and maybe tease her just a little. 

A grin spreads wide on his face. “Ever tried to eat a clock?” 

This time, she’s the one who’s blinking at him, and he thinks he’s looking at a mirror image of what he’d gone through the other day. “Ben?” Her head cocks to the side, then she scoffs, smacking him on the chest even as she starts grinning back. “It’s time-consuming.”

He begins snickering as she swears at him, her hands tugging at the button of his jeans all the while even as she chastises him. “Hey, you started it!”

“Are you going to make fun of me every time we get naked now?” she asks, undoing the button before she moves on to his fly. “Hmm?”

“Not if it means I lose the chance to do this with you now.”

“What if I want you to do it?” she asks, then she unzips his jeans before she latches her fingers beneath his waistband, and begins tugging down. “I told you, I crack jokes when I’m nervous, and I’m not saying we have to do this every time, but just....”

Taking her hands in his, Ben nods as she meets his eyes. “Hey, I’ll gladly make some fucking awful jokes if you need me to,” he says, then he kisses the knuckles of her middle and ring fingers. “Where did the king keep his armies?”

Rey flushes as he lifts his hips, then she tugs his pants further down, exposing the dark hair that rests at the base of the trail that leads down from his navel. “Up his sleevies,” she replies, then he laughs jubilantly as she leans forward, and presses a kiss to the skin she’s just exposed. “Thank you.”

This is so bizarre, but he still just lets his head fall back against the futon, and he laughs before propping it up on his arm, wanting to watch the moment her mouth sinks down on his cock, and he’s inside of her for the first time. Well, technically the second, but his tongue had only just barely—

_ Stop thinking, Ben, _ he thinks to himself, then he’s clearing his throat at nothing in particular as she finally frees his cock from its confines. Her breath hitches the first time she sees it, and he watches as her body shivers. “Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Just nervous,” she replies, then the corners of her mouth quirk up into a smile, and she presses a tiny kiss to the tip, and his eyes are already prepared to roll back in his head. 

_ Fuck, _ he hadn’t known he was so sensitive. She’s only just pressed a kiss to his cock and he’s already prepared to come apart in seconds like he’s going through puberty again. “Oh, fuck-”

He can tell she’s trying not to laugh as she looks at him, then she cocks her head to the side as she begins stroking his base. “What does a house wear?” she asks, and he thinks he might just survive this encounter as she prepares the punchline, which will undoubtedly be horrible. “Address.”

Laughter leaves him breathless, but then he gasps as her tongue swipes out, and licks at his tip, wet heat setting his nerve endings on fire as he fights for air. He hadn’t been expecting that, for her to make his vision hazy as those little dots that sometimes accompany moments in which he stands up too fast cover his sight completely. He should know better now, shouldn’t he? That she can drive him wild with just the tiniest of things, and she’s clever at finding interesting ways to make him completely fall apart. 

She’s still snickering to herself as she licks him again, then he’s being taken into her mouth, and if he’d thought he was dying before, he’s certain of it now. “Jesus, Rey.”

In that moment, she fucking hums as she takes him in a little deeper, the combination of the vibrations with the movement causing his hips to buck just a little, and she places a hand over his lower abdomen, pulling off of him as she gives him a warning look. Somehow, the glare with a hint of mischief manages to turn him on more, and he thinks he might be harder than he’s ever been. “Behave yourself,” she tells him, then she’s back on his cock, taking him in inch by inch, until he hears her grunt softly, and he knows she’s reached her limit. 

A few seconds pass where she seems to settle like that, and he can feel her tongue moving against his shaft, but he’s trying so hard to focus on his breathing, that he barely notices it until she’s pulling back, and she starts to really, properly move. Her tongue swirls around his tip as she pulls back, then her head is bobbing over his cock, her hand stroking the parts of him she can’t reach with her mouth as Ben steadily loses all control. 

“Oh, god, Rey,” he breathes, his heart pounding so quickly he thinks he can hear his pulse in his ears. “Don’t stop, don’t… fu…”

She laughs around his cock, pulling off of him, but continuing her work with her hand. “Remember to breathe, Ben,” she tells him, her thumb swiping over his tip, gathering a bead of pre-come as she gives him a wolfish grin, and he’s astonished as she goes back down on him how confident she’s become. 

A few days ago when she’d been the one in his position, she was so nervous she kept making jokes until he brought her past the point of no return. Now she’s sucking his cock like she was born to do it. He remembers making a joke about practicing on an orange—well, not really a joke, considering he’d traumatized at least two people in the university dining hall to do it—and he wonders if she’d done something similar to some poor unfortunate banana. Hopefully, unlike him, she’d thought to remove the possibility of witnesses.

He’s almost in awe of her as he watches. She’s a little awkward, her teeth definitely brush his skin a time or two, but he’s overall so overcome by the waves of pleasure the act brings him, that he hardly notices. Hell, he might even come just from the sight of her mouth around his cock itself. It feels like if he just took a mental picture of her like this, he could come in seconds, but he’s holding himself back a little. 

He doesn’t want to embarrass himself by coming within two minutes. 

In order to do that, he’s going to have to—oh god—he’s going to have to take a page from her book. “Why don’t crabs donate?” he asks, his voice a little more high pitched than he’d like it to be. “Because they’re a little shellfish!”

She snorts her amusement, releasing his cock from her mouth immediately as she rests her head on his thigh, but her hand continues to lazily stroke his base as she tries to recover herself. “You can’t do that while I’m going down on you, Ben! What if I bite your fucking dick off?”

“I don’t think it works like that, but okay,” he replies, smiling as he watches her place a kiss to his upper thigh. “But hey?”

“Hmm?”

“Five guys walk into a bar, you’d think one of them would’ve seen it.”

Smacking his thigh again, she shakes her head, then sighs. “What’s going on? Are you nervous, too?”

“No, you’re just—you’re good at this, and I’m trying very desperately not to come.”

“Isn’t that the point, Ben? That you come?”

“I don’t want to come too soon.”

“Well, maybe I want you to come too soon,” she tells him, stroking his cock a little more quickly. “So stop talking, and let me suck your cock until you come.”

Nodding slowly, he considers asking her whether she wants him to come in her mouth or if she wants him to come outside of her mouth, but then she gives him this look as she licks his tip again, and it shuts him right up. She’ll tell him when the time comes, and he can always just warn her once he’s actually getting close. They’re good at communicating, he likes to think, and they understand each other better than anyone else. 

At least, he thinks she understands him better than his other friends. She’s certainly the one he’s closest to. Literally. 

A stuttered gasp leaves him as she takes him back into her mouth with a renewed vigor. She takes him in until she reaches her limit much more quickly this time, then her cheeks hollow, and she sucks his cock as his eyes finally roll back in his head, and he sees stars. “ _ Fuck, fuck, fuck…” _ If this is how he dies, he’s perfectly okay with it. 

This is heaven, this is bliss, he’s melting beneath her touch, and as the hand on his stomach begins stroking his skin gently with her thumb, he feels like he’s floating. He’s miles above the Earth, and it’ll be a god damned miracle if they manage to pull him back down. 

She’s bringing him close to that edge already, and though he’s come with her before, he knows after this his shitty left hand will never be the same. If he could open his eyes, he’d probably look at it mournfully and whisper an apology, but if he opens his eyes, if he looks at Rey and what she’s doing to him, he’ll probably fall apart in seconds. 

Maybe that’s not such a bad idea. He’s been delaying his orgasm long enough. He needs to fucking come. His breathing becomes nothing but short, sharp pants that leave him fighting for control, for the ability to breathe, and he thinks it’s going to happen any second now. He has to warn her, has to tell her what’s about to happen. 

“Rey, I’m close,” he breathes, and she gets this look in her eye as she meets his gaze, but then she shuts it down, closing her eyes as she continues sucking his cock, her cheeks hollowing once again before he feels her tongue swirl around the ttip, and she goes down one last time. 

He comes not even five seconds later, his come shooting into her throat as a moan falls from his lips. All he can think is just blank, his thoughts white out into nothing, they’re too incoherent for him to bother trying to understand. He’s coming harder than he has in ages, feeling like he’s flying for a second before he comes back down to earth, and Rey finally sets him free, pulling his pants up over his softening cock before she takes a few deep breaths, seeming to be struggling with oxygen just as much as he is. 

It takes a couple more seconds before she finally gives him a smile, and he’s just starting to smile back when suddenly she stifles laughter, and—“Hi, Close, I’m dad.”

The amount of time it takes for his brain to process what she’s just said. He spends what feels like an eternity trying to figure out whether she’d just said that, then his face lights up in a grin, and they both fall apart into peals of laughter as she crawls over him, and settles her chin on his chest, arms crossing beneath it for support. “Are you fucking serious, Rey?”

“I thought of the joke while I was sucking you off, but I didn’t want to stop cause you said you were close and I was afraid I might ruin it so I kept it in,” she admits, then she shrugs. “Sorry.”

He laughs as he runs a hand through her hair. “One of these days, we’re going to have to figure out how to have sex without cracking jokes every two minutes.” Then he leans forward, and kisses her forehead, watching as her eyes close with the anticipation of the touch, then they flutter open as he pulls away, and she is watching him. 

“But that’s part of the fun.”

“Rey, there’s very little you can do that I won’t find sexy,” he tells her, voice growing deeper as he runs a hand down the ridges of her spine. “But if I’m hearing, ‘what’s it called when a door is not actually a door? It’s a jar,’ every time I come—don’t laugh, I’m serious—”

“Sorry.”

“—If I hear  _ that _ every time I come, I might start to get turned on when someone tells a fucking knock-knock joke.”

She only laughs harder, burying her face in his chest as she tries to contain herself, but she fails. It’s cute, if he’s being honest. The sheepish way in which she hides her face, and looks up at him every couple of seconds is endearing, but he really doesn’t want to be pavloved into popping a boner every time someone makes him laugh. “But that’s really funny.”

“Rey,” he says, then she looks up, and he finds himself lost in the colors of her irises, hypnotized by the sight of her like he had been ever since he’d first realized he was starting to fall in love with her. “You can tell me jokes whenever you want, but you can hide when you’re turned on. It’s a bit harder for me.”

“Okay, that’s fair, but, Ben?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve got a question,” she says, and her expression as she crawls over him again so that their face to face is serious, but he still detects a hint of mischief behind her eyes. 

Cocking his head to the side, he smirks at her. “Is it a serious question?”

She scoffs sarcastically. “When would I ever ask you a question that isn’t serious?”

All he does is blink at her, the question of whether or not he’s serious unspoken, but still lingering in the air between them all the same. “ _ Rey _ .”

“Fair point, especially given that the question was; ‘what do you call a person who immigrated to Sweden?”

He wants to roll his eyes, but all he does is lean forward to kiss her forehead. “I don’t know.”

“Artificial Swedener,” she says, then they both burst into laughter as his arms wrap around her waist, and he shifts his hips so that they’re rolling over, and the positions are reversed. She begins shrieking his name as he assaults her neck with kisses, another mark being left on the center of her throat—because god knows they don’t have enough hickeys between them, half of campus must’ve commented on them by now—as he moves. “ _ Ben! _ ” 

He just grins as he continues kissing her up to her jaw, then his lips find her cheeks, and she’s laughing all the while, her hands tangling into his hair as she holds him close. “No more jokes,” he whispers, then he pauses for a second, his lips hovering just over hers. “Or maybe just a few.”

“I think I can work with that.” Then she’s kissing him, hands fisting his hair to hold him against her as he returns her kiss, the corners of his mouth twitched up in a smile he can’t shake as they melt into the futon, and he prays to any god that’s listening that he doesn’t pop a boner the next time she asks him about the two thieves that stole a calendar. 

He doesn’t need to be hard when he finds out they each got six months. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a geology joke for y'all:
> 
> Watson: Holmes! What kind of rock is this!  
> Holmes: Sedimentary, my dear Watson.

**Author's Note:**

> Most jokes except for the _Star Trek_ joke and the orange joke come from [this](https://bestlifeonline.com/actually-funny-bad-jokes/) list of 150 jokes. I recommend a read, it's quite worth a laugh. 
> 
> Until next time <3


End file.
